Layover
by ko-hi
Summary: [Duo POV][complete] When a mission goes sour, Duo feels completely responsible. And as Duo often does, he finds himself in even deeper trouble when he tries to make up for it.


_Wrote this for the autumn mini-contest at MediaMiner, but don't know if I submitted it in time. Very quickly written, no beta reader, and I did try to incorporate all the elements of the contest: Action-oriented, theme of "something happened on the way to the market", and must include coffee, a broken chair, and foreign currency in the Protagonist's pocket. This is written entirely from Duo's POV, and hopefully I was able to keep him in character. After all, this IS my first Gundam Wing story... All comments are very much appreciated. :D_

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_Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and all affiliated characters/settings belong to Bandai._

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**Layover**  
By Heirloom

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Damn, it just wasn't my week. 

We were on our way to Earth, trying to meet up with one of the doctors' liaisons to pick up information on our next move – hopefully to reunite with our Gundams, which we'd had to ditch back on Earth several weeks ago to get 'away' for a while. Nice little vacation to the middle of a random spaceport several light-years out. Oz had been hot on our tails, and they'd managed to catch up with the dinky shuttle I'd been charged to maneuver through the Oz blockade just before the last cyber jump to Earth's atmosphere. For the most part, I'd been dodging their canons left and right, and doing a pretty damn good job if I did say so myself.

Whoever came up with the phrase "famous last words" needs to die. Horribly. … _Now_.

At any rate, there were just too damn many of them for me to keep track of. Oz really wanted us dead, or at least unable to get back to Earth. Our shuttle's shielding amounted to just about a two-hit quit, and honestly, I'm not sure if any of the other well-trained pilots on board could have done a much better job. … Maybe. Heero and the others _had _been counting on my maneuvering expertise, so I guess it's probably safer to say that I let them down when I lost track of one of our little Oz buddies. Which sucks, 'cause I know for a fact that the others think I'm hardly capable of being serious, except maybe Quatre. Good ol' Quat.

Unfortunately, good ol' Quat got a mild concussion from my attempt at an emergency crash-landing on L2. The others weren't much better, either – Trowa cracked a few ribs from a hard jolt against his too-tight harness, Wuffie broke his leg, and Heero… well, never know if Heero was hurt or not. He wouldn't tell me. I came away from the crash with a sprained wrist, plastering a sheepish grin on my face to cover for any excuses my comrades might've expected me to make. Who knows. At any rate, we hobbled as fast as we could away from the crash site to any shelter we could find. Just long enough for us to get to a certified safe house. We got lucky; we landed near enough to one of the shadier regions of L2 and found an older house that had been abandoned by its previous owners. Or maybe they'd been killed.

Since Heero clearly is a better medic than I am – despite how brutal he can be about it, he _does _know his stuff, at least better than I do – I was selected to go find supplies in the nearest town once he'd bound my wrist up so damn tight I thought my fingers were going to explode. I felt bad enough about the crash, despite Quat's muzzy reassurances that it wasn't my fault, so I didn't mind taking the trip to the nearest town to find anything I could get my hands on to stock up our current abode.

Town wasn't too far down the road, but it took me at least four times as long to get there as it should have. Wanted to take a roundabout route to throw off anyone who might've been following me, since ya never know when Oz might be lurking around behind your back. Well, at least I never know, or not right away. Nobody was following me, thankfully. I didn't want them tracking me back to the makeshift 'safe' house.

The weather on L2 was nicer than I remembered it as a child. I only remembered it being ass-cold half the time, shivering in my threadbare second-hand clothing with the small cloister of kids like me that I considered 'family.' Maybe I only remembered the winters the best. L2 seemed pretty damn pleasant during my walk, and I almost forgot that it was the same colony that I'd grown up in. The small town – the nearest one – was actually quite charming. Small, well-kept cottages with trimmed landscape, generally pleasant-looking folk peered from the clean and new-looking windows. Not a bad place; kinda made me wish I'd grown up in a place like it instead of my own shanty-town further south on the colony.

Privately-owned shops lined the main street, as I didn't recognize any store names in particular. Not much of a place for brand-name chain corporations. I suddenly felt a bit uneasy; this town was pretty damn tiny, and any outsiders – me – would look rather… out of the ordinary. Perhaps this town wasn't quite so pleasant anymore. But since I was already on the main drag, might as well try to fit my role of an outsider. I plastered on my best Duo Maxwell grin and stalked right up to the nearest café. I figured a cup o' Joe and a sandwich would settle my nerves some.

The middle-age waitress smiled down at me with one of those tight, fake, I'm-not-sure-I-trust-you smiles. God, those bug the hell outta me. I flashed a grin of my own in return to show her how it was done, trying not to shrink away from her scrutinizing half-glare. Suddenly, it seemed a little too quiet. I fidgeted. She glared more. I coughed, and that might have startled her enough to start speaking.

"What would you like, sir?" she asked, trying all too hard – unsuccessfully – to hide a slight edge to her voice.

"Uh, I'd like a cup of coffee, please," I replied.

"Sugar and cream?"

"No thanks. I like my coffee strong enough to curl the hair on my arms," I replied jokingly. She frowned; didn't like it. Damn.

"Anything else I can get you?"

"I think that's all for now, thank you." I tried hard to be polite, but she clearly didn't like me for some reason. That reason started to set me on edge a bit as my soldier's brain kicked in. Did she recognize me from the newsreels of when I'd been captured some time back? Maybe Oz had found out that we were here and posted our pictures in town. Or she just didn't like men with longer hair than she had. It was entirely possible that I was on the receiving end of small-town prejudice.

She finally tottered away to fetch my cup of coffee, and I took a deep breath. If I was going to encounter people like this during my whole in-town trip, I had a feeling things were not going to be so pleasant after all. Even so, I had a list of things I really needed to make sure I picked up while I was here, as unpleasant as the town might be. Food, water, batteries, medical supplies, a few parts from a hardware store… oh, and ice. _Lots _of ice. My wrist still throbbed unhappily at its tight binding.

The waitress brought back a steaming cup of joyous coffee with that same fake smile plastered on her face. I was so excited to get my hands on the caffeine that I reached out to gently take the cup from her. And she froze. I looked up at her quizzically, trying to figure out what was wrong, until I traced her line of vision to my wrist.

"What happened there, honey?" she asked. Even the concern in her voice sounded forced.

I shrugged. "Oh, this? I sprained it after I fell off my bike last week," I replied lamely. "Should be good as new in a week or two."

Her mouth formed an "o," though she said nothing as she let me take my coffee from her. I felt a few pairs of eyes boring holes into my back, and it made me even more fidgety and ready to get my ass out of there. Such suspicious people in this town! I don't think I've ever chugged hot coffee quite that fast in my life. Don't think I'll ever want to again, either. I burned my tongue, and it made me sick to my stomach. Yuck.

The waitress came back and asked if I wanted anything other than coffee. I told her no and thanked her as she handed me the bill. I fished my wallet from my coat pocket, lifted a few credits from it and started to place them on the table with the bill when the waitress stopped me with a sharp look.

"I'm sorry, sir… we don't take credits in this town."

I gaped at her for a moment – I imagine I must've looked like a fish with his mouth open – before I nervously chuckled a reply. How stupid of me; most towns on L2 don't take anything _but_ L2 currency. I should have known that – I grew up here, after all. Well, not _here_, but my L2 town was not too different from this one… just a helluva lot shabbier and poorer.

"Of course, I'm sorry. Hang on a second."

This time I pulled an L2 bill out of my wallet, overpaying the waitress and scampering out of there before she could try to force the change back at me with a scowl. Mind you, it wasn't out of kindness or charity – I say it was a small price to pay for a quick exit.

Even after I left the café, the uneasy feeling still tugged at my mind. This town definitely wasn't as pleasant as I'd originally thought. More people cast suspicious glances in my direction, and someone definitely was following me. I nearly aborted my supply-gathering mission, but I knew that food and medical supplies were imminently important, and this was the only town within walking distance. As soon as I set my eyes on the pharmacy, I headed straight there and quickly searched for a general first aid kit, then more gauze, tape, painkillers, antibiotic ointment, and insta-ice packs. By the time I checked out of there, I was used to the wary looks. Used to, but still not comfortable with.

I quickly made my way down the main street to look for the grocery store, but as usual, I have a short attention span and got distracted. A strange-looking pillar of smoke billowed just beyond where the main road ended; somewhere in the bounds a small forested area on the outskirts of downtown. Curious, I'd casually made my way closer and hoped to shake off whoever was following me by taking a circuitous route. The stalker sense faded after a bit, and once I was sure I wasn't being followed, I made my way through underbrush and scrub oak, closer to where I'd seen the smoke rising. Odd, that they'd keep a factory so far out in the middle of nowhere. Usually the factories on L2 were in the industrialized towns, clumped together in one district of town. This one was by itself, and looked like it had pretty damn high security.

Curious. I'd have to check it out once I got back to the safe house with my supplies.

Back in town, I managed to pick up groceries without much of a fuss, though the stalker sense clicked back on during my walk across town. Tool shop, picked up a few parts, and then started to head home. My shadow was still there. Damn, I didn't want to waste that much more time trying to shake the guy off. I did anyway, though. I'd never hear the end of it from both Heero and Wufei if I didn't.

Hours later, exhausted, wrist throbbing a rapid tattoo and arms about ready to fall off from my supply load, I was entirely too relieved to make it back to the safe house. Of course I was harassed by the crew, demanding to know what took me so long. And of course, since I hate being badgered like that – I swear it's a sign of distrust – I came up with a very sarcastic remark about finding the best lay house in town or something like that. I don't remember. Point is that they were angry, annoyed, whatever it is you want to call it when they get irritable and downright snippy with me.

And since I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, I chose to keep my trap shut about my little escapade to the mystery factory. Hell, I'd go check it out myself. They weren't going to trust me to do a decent job anyway. If I found something interesting there, maybe they'd stop being such jerks about everything else that went wrong on this God-forsaken mission.

Hah. As if.

We ate dinner in tense silence, and once everything had been cleaned up and injuries tended to, everyone went to bed to wait for further communication from the doctors. We didn't even know if they'd received our message about the emergency landing yet, and the radio silence was troubling. Maybe that's why the guys were so damned cranky.

I waited until they were all asleep before I quietly slipped out, dressed in mission gear, ready to do solo recon. Recon was my specialty; most people assume that I suck at it because I'm so loud, which is entirely untrue. Yes, I'm loud, but only when I need to be. Not many people can manage to piss people off as quickly as I can, and that can translate into a very valuable skill, y'know. I left a quick note on the table in the off chance I didn't come back, stating my self-imposed mission objectives, location, and estimated time frame. After that, I quietly left and made my way back through a new zigzagging route towards the factory.

The security was just as high when I approached at night as it had been earlier that day. Nobody seemed to be going in or out of the factory at this hour, but it didn't hurt to observe just a bit longer to see if there was a way around the tall electric fences tipped with barbed wire. I entertained myself for about an hour as I watched the guards on their watch. Let me tell you – it's about as amusing as watching a traffic light change. Oh yeah. But the waiting did pay off; another half-hour of being completely bored, and I spotted them getting ready to change the guards, or getting ready for something inbound. With no time to waste, I stole my way down to the main entrance in the shadows to get a closer look, hoping that I would catch an opportunity to slip inside.

Inbound truck transport, it looked like. Three sets of headlights appeared down the road, so I slunk through the shadows near the road to try to blend in with the transport as they passed through the gate. Instead of trying to take on one of the guards, I managed to shimmy my way into the back of the rearmost truck without being noticed. See? I told you I could be quiet and stealthy when I want to be.

I ducked behind several crates as my truck stopped at the checkpoint, where one of the guards flicked a flashlight beam around the back of the truck. Not as high of security as I thought if they weren't searching the trucks more thoroughly than that, I assumed. Once the truck started moving again, I pried open the lid of the nearest crate with my wrist knife to peer inside with my pen light.

Damn, I hate it when I'm right about following gut instinct. The bastards had fucking Gundam parts being transferred to this factory. I sighed, shaking my head as I snapped off a few images with the digital camera I had in my wrist watch. Those I sent to Wufei's e-mail inbox just in case I didn't make it out with them, and kept copies of them on the camera's memory card in case I did. God damn. No wonder they'd kept this factory by itself in the middle of nowhere.

I had to wonder what they were building inside the factory, and how illegal this whole spot was. Oz had to be running it; nobody else had enough funding to be messing around with that much gundanium. Maybe the townsfolk knew something about it – and maybe that's why they'd been watching me so warily. Shit. I seriously hoped I didn't blow our cover just by going on a supply run, though part of me had the nasty feeling that I had. Part of me wished that I hadn't been so brash about going solo on this recon mission, but it was too late to turn back now that I was in.

I must have the worst luck ever. I swear to God I do.

The checkpoint security may not have searched the truck well, but I'll be damned if I didn't have shots fired at me the instant I poked my head outside the back of the truck. Swearing enough to make a spacer blush, I ducked back into the truck and reached for my handgun out of my utility belt, immediately switching to soldier mode. As soon as the firing stopped long enough for me to catch a breath, I leaped from the back of the vehicle and to find cover behind another set of wooden crates. Apparently, the truck had been pulled into a warehouse full of these gundanium-filled cartons, and now I had some shelter from their artillery. When the firing commenced after my graceful dive to safety, I was able to pinpoint the locations of a few of the gunmen and take them down with one shot per. Shinigami laughed uproariously in my mind, sharpening my focus with his bloodthirst.

I took a picture of the gunmen shooting at me and e-mailed that to Wufei as well, hoping he'd get it and figure out my message – Duo's in a helluva lot of trouble again. I was going to get _hell_ for this when I got back to the safe house. Stupid ol' Duo gone and screwed it up again, blew our cover for the umpteenth time and got himself killed. Serves him right. … Right? At least, that's what I imagined them saying about me.

I took down several more guards, but the firing didn't stop; had me wondering just how many guards I had shooting at me. At this rate, it didn't look like I was going to get out any time soon, or in one piece. Shinigami crowed with delight over the whine of ricocheting bullets; _take down as many as you can with you!_ No. I still had a chance. I just had to find a way to create a diversion that would take their attention away from me just long enough for me to slip out of there. I fingered the pin on one of the hand grenades I'd brought with me. Yeah, it might work. Might as well give it a shot.

Once I pulled the pin, I quickly flung the grenade in the general direction of the firing guards and took cover. The deafening blast rattled my eardrums and flung debris everywhere, but I paid no heed as I sprinted out of the warehouse as quickly as I could. On my way out, I snapped more pictures of parts that I didn't recognize and e-mailed them to Wufei as well. He was going to have one helluva full inbox by the time I was done.

You better believe that I sprinted like all hell was after me once I got out into the open courtyard between the fence and the warehouse. The folks at the checkpoint didn't seem to be too aware of my presence just yet; they all seemed to be in a flurry over my little diversion in the warehouse. Sirens from firefighting trucks were already on the horizon and heading in my direction; I didn't have much time.

Adrenaline had my heart pounding so heavily that I thought it would be ripped from my chest in its fury. I only hoped nobody else heard it. As I approached the first checkpoint guard, I made sure to be quick about dispatching him from behind with a quick hand clamped over his mouth and a jerk of the neck. He fell to the ground bonelessly. Although I'd been quiet about taking him down, the resounding _thump_ from his fall alerted the other two guards standing watch. I took one of them down with a quick kick to the side of his head, and moved quickly to avoid bullets from the third guard's aimless, panicked firing. He fell to a brutal uppercut.

Finally free from the gates of the factory grounds, I hightailed it to the shadows, feeling heat at my back as the warehouse blazed brightly behind me. Once in the woods, I took a deep sigh of relief, grinning back at my handiwork in the small distance. Boy, had I found something interesting. I only hoped that this wasn't going to get me or the other guys into too much trouble, since we weren't too far away from the warehouse.

I turned to take yet another obscure route back to the safe house when suddenly I took a hard blow to my shoulder. The ground rushed up at me as the world faded to black, despite my startled surprise.

I hate it when I wake up after I don't remember falling asleep. Or had I slept? No, I'd been unconscious – that nasty pounding in my head blatantly reminded me of that fact. I tried to move, but blinding pain rushed across my shoulders and down my left arm. The pain brought the world back into focus, and focus brought the realization that I was bound to a chair with half an armrest that had to use a wall to support the back end. Something nasty-tasting was stuffed into my mouth, making me want to gag, but I couldn't do much about it with my hands tied around behind me. I was alone; the dim room housed nothing but a smattering of dilapidated furniture and nothing more, other than me.

At any rate, I knew the situation was pretty damn bad. _Shitshitshitshit._ I screwed it up again.

Testing my bonds, I realized that my shoulder hurt way too much for it to be of any use. The bonds were tight enough to make it uncomfortable to shift against them, and I could already feel the beginnings of raw spots forming around my wrists. I figured that my shoulder had taken a bullet, which was why I hadn't seen the blow coming. I wondered where my captors had gone.

I didn't have to wait long to find out. A uniformed guard cracked open the door at the opposite end of the room, the light from the other room blinding me momentarily until he shut the door behind him. Once my eyes adjusted back to the dim of the room, I noticed that the man wasn't a whole lot older than Zechs Merquise, and just as pretty – and cold – too. Damn.

"You're finally awake," he noted blandly, eyeing me with wry annoyance. I glared back. "I'm not sure if you understand signs, but you've been caught trespassing on our property. You know that's illegal, do you not?"

Oh, if only I didn't have the damned gag in my mouth. I sure had an earful for him on that matter – gundanium isn't legal tender either, pal. Once the doctors find out… Perhaps the gag was a God-send after all.

The guard frowned down at me and set to working on untying the gag from behind my head. "We'll need to have a little chat, young man. I don't know where you managed to pick up all these fancy supplies we found on you, but I have a feeling that you've got a lot of explaining to do if you want to leave here in one piece."

As soon as the gag fell away, I coughed to clear the gunk that had built up in my throat while I was out. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, feeling it slide a bit. It wasn't attached to the wall after all – maybe I did have some hope for escape yet.

"Now, young man, I understand that you were spotted in town today buying medical supplies, a large amount of groceries, and some rather interesting parts from the hardware store. I've also seen your picture around before elsewhere, I'm pretty sure. Would you mind telling me what you're doing here in Glentown, so perhaps we could clear up any misunderstandings?"

Damn, if he wasn't interrogating me, and I was already injured. Chances were that Oz had warrants out for our arrests, and mine was going to bring in quite a sum of money for these guys.

"I dunno what yer talkin' about, buddy," I replied in my best L2-ruffian accent. "Ima wandering weapons c'lector, and I happen'd t' sprain me wrist last week testin' out some new… toys. Th' groc'ries are fer me – like a good meal now 'n' then."

"Uh-huh… And so you didn't sprain your wrist after you fell off your bike?"

Damn my luck. So the townspeople were in on this – no _wonder_ they were so wary of any outsiders like me. Screw the accent.

He knew he'd caught me, too. "So tell me, young man. What are you _really_ doing here? What in Glentown could possibly catch your attention so much that you felt the need to spy on us?"

"What in Glentown could you possibly have that you need a fully armed guard around it?" I retorted. "Surely you law-abiding citizens couldn't possibly have anything to hide."

Damn my luck, and damn my mouth, too. I tasted blood in my mouth once the stars cleared after he'd backhanded my face. My head pounded painfully in protest, but I still had noticed that the chair shifted slightly in response. Good.

"Don't you forget, _Duo Maxwell_, that you're the one who should be concerned about law," he hissed in reply. I must have given some indication of my surprise, despite my best efforts to hide it. "Yeah, that's right. We already know who you are. Here's the deal – tell me where your buddies are hiding, and we'll consider giving you a painless execution, hm?"

I glowered back at him. "Like hell I will, you damned bloody Oz-bitch!"

Okay, so I pushed him, but it doesn't mean he had the right to grab my injured shoulder so damned hard. I think I must have cried out, as my throat burned. I saw white for a moment. I didn't think I'd been out for that long until reality came trickling back to me, and I faintly heard a familiar voice calling my name desperately.

"… Duo! Pull yourself together, Duo! Come on, please wake up…"

"Quatre," I managed to croak, seeing obvious relief flooding over his concerned expression. I could have kissed him. When I finally reoriented myself, I realized that his face had been hovering over mine, and that I had been laying on the floor in a rather undignified sprawl on my back. When I tried to sit up, Quatre gently pushed me back down.

"Don't move – Heero says you need to stay still until he makes sure you haven't seriously hurt yourself."

Heero? "… Where…?"

"He's helping Wufei and Trowa secure a transport out of here. You need to lie still, Duo – we just got the bleeding in your shoulder to stop! Duo!"

Damned if they hadn't all come to get stupid ol' Duo out of another mess, even if they were injured, too. I was never going to hear the end of it.

"Oi, Maxwell, hold still!" Wufei's voice called from across the room. I realized slowly that there was a firefight going on just outside the door. I felt a slight pang of guilt when I saw the air cast on his leg, but he seemed to ignore the fact that he was injured at all. "Don't make Winner worry himself to death on your behalf."

"Yessir," I drawled, trying to stay aware. My shoulder throbbed painfully against the wooden floor, but at least I wasn't going to be interrogated any further by that jackass. That thought reminded me – had they received my e-mails? "Quatre… did Wufei get…?"

"Yes, we got the images and sent them on to the right people. You really found some interesting stuff here, Duo," he said proudly. I blinked owlishly, I'm sure – hadn't been what I was expecting to hear. Quatre noticed my surprise and managed a light smile. "You did well. Now let us take care of the rest."

Well I'll be damned. So the week didn't turn out quite so bad as I thought it had.

In the end, I was told that the guys had managed to blast our way out of there, take the repaired shuttle and fly us the hell home. I don't know. They'd drugged me into oblivious bliss until I could be taken care of by proper medical practitioners. All my mistakes had been forgiven when they found out that I'd discovered Oz's latest attempt at building a new version of a Gundam with a souped-up Zero system built in. Even though the shoulder was a bitch to go to therapy for, at least I hadn't screwed up quite so badly as I thought I had on that layover from hell.

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_.owari._  



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